Journal of a Mad Ventriloquist
by Halfsan
Summary: -Oneshot- -Night of the Living Dummy- Just a little story I thought up on how Slappy came to be.


**This is just something I came up with and wrote down. It's actually insanely longer that I expected. I've never written in a journal form, or even first person, so I hope it's alright.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Goosebumps, or Slappy. But the other characters and the plot, I made up.**

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_August 12._

_Where to begin? While browsing in the paint section of the local hobby shop, I came across this journal. Somebody must have been planning on buying it, but reconsidered, placing it in a section of the store in which it didn't belong. While I was looking there, I noticed how out of place it was, and rather than returning it, I bought it on an impulse. Well, I guess I'll introduce myself. My name is Samuel Kane. I'm a man of twenty-four years with a passion for ventriloquism. When I was younger, I went to see a ventriloquist, and was so amazed at his talent. I've made it my ultimate goal. So far, it's going great—ha! I wish. _

_It's so unfortunate. I have all of the skills one would need to be successful in this hobby: I can build, design, make up creative voices, and even sync my voice up with the dummies. The one thing I lack is that I cannot throw my voice properly. Everyone notices how conspicuously my lips move. I've done a few shows at some local theaters. The audience is about twenty-five to thirty people; however, at the end, it's somewhere in the single digits. Some may give up after so many experiences like this, but I will manage to master this skill. _

–

_I just finished painting the two new dummies that I had finished sculpting last night. A boy and a girl. The boy has short, copper hair with pasty green eyes. He's wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt, with a grey short-sleeved shirt over that and black pants. I decided to name him Alex. The girl wears a dark red dress with black, long hair and grey-blue eyes. I named her Neve. I think they make a fine addition to my twenty-something collection of dummies. _

_It's just a shame that I can't bring these dummies to life._

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August 17._

_I auditioned for a quick show at a theater, and they accepted me. My show is in three days. I'm pretty excited, but I'm also nervous that the show won't go well. I've always been told practice makes perfect, but even though I've been practicing for a good fifteen years, I still can't throw my voice properly. I'm hoping that the audience will maybe sit far from the stage. Maybe they won't notice my lips move. I still haven't decided which one of my dummies I'll use. I have so many, and I can't pick a favorite. They're like my children. It's hard to pick, but I think I'll choose Maxwell, the first dummy I carved. I based his appearance on my childhood friend, by the same name. Maxwell always wanted to be a scientist when he was older, so I put the dummy in a lab coat with some pens in the pocket. He had semi-long dark brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Well, I have to stop writing. I need to practice, practice, practice!  
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August 20._

_A new record! I actually had ten people left-over from the thirty-eight people that attended. Not that great, but a good start. I did studder a lot during the show, which I'm angry at myself for. I could see people in the audience whispering to each other. I could only imagine what they were talking about. "Hey, do you see his lips moving?" "Yeah, what kind of ventriloquist is this?" Humiliating. I got a very quiet applause, too. Some people just got up and left. They probably didn't want to be rude by leaving before my act was over. I don't know._

_The minute I arrived home, I released my frustration by trying to carve a new dummy. I want this one to be special! He's going to be my best work, and I know he'll make me successful. I'll need to go out sometime tomorrow and buy myself a new carving knife. The one I have now is dulling down. I don't feel like writing anymore. My hand is starting to ache, from scribbling down today's events, and pulling the lever to make Maxwell's lips move. I'm going to rest now.  
_

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August 25._

_The blade to my carving knife broke off, so I went to buy a new one. The dull one was doing okay, and I planned on using it until it couldn't even cut through butter. While I drove home, I slowed down at this building that had a very ominous feeling around it. On some strange impulse, I parked my car, and entered the strange store. I can't seem to recall the name, but it was some kind of occult store, or something. I'm not all that into "magic," but something compelled me to skim the store. I found a book, simply titled "Magic Spells." The book was big and red, with gold letters. Without even opening the book up, I purchased it, for around $20. I still haven't read the book. It's sitting on my desk right now, to my left. I think I'll read through it now._

–

_I don't believe it! These spells actually work! I used one of my dummies as a test subject and tried out one titled "levitation spell." I muttered the weird words, and my dummy floated off the ground, about three feet in the air! I've done this spell several times over, just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating! I'm confident that what I saw was real! I need to stop here. I've barely even skimmed the first twenty pages, and this book is thick.  
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August 31._

_I haven't been writing lately. I'm still new at this journal-thing. I've still been reading that spell book. Maybe there's a way I can secretly incorporate one of those spells in my act. It'd definitely make my act more interesting. Oh, but anyway, I've also been working on my new dummy. I've got his clothes picked out: a double-breasted suit, and shiny black shoes. His eyes are going to be a glassy blue, and his hair will be dark brown, with thin, red lips, painted into a big grin. He's going to be my most special dummy, because he'll be the only one that has controls to move his eyes. He'll be great!_

–

_I just found a spell in this book titled "soul transfer." I'm not exactly sure what it means. It sounds interesting, but in order to experiment with this, I'll need to find someone willing to go through with this. I'm too scared to do it myself. I also just finished painting the dummy's hair. He's drying up now. I think I'll read some more of this book, then head to sleep.  
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September 8._

_I've neglected this thing again. A few days ago, I once again auditioned for another show and was accepted. My new dummy still isn't completed for the show, so I'll use Alex. I'm sure he'll do great. I still haven't finished reading the spells in that big, red book. That's why I've been so occupied. That, and trying to finish my new dummy. He hasn't been named yet. I normally name my dummies when they are complete. My show starts in a few hours. I'm going to use this time to practice plenty. I really think I'm getting better at this. Well, I'm about to find out._

–

_Unreal. My show went decently, but that's besides the point. At the end, a girl from the audience came up to me, telling me that she liked Alex a lot. I explained to her that I had dozens of dummies, and she insisted that I show them to her. Sabby was her name. She was about sixteen or seventeen. When we arrived, she skimmed through my collection of dummies, amazed that I had hand-carved all of them. She picked up a dummy I had named Tina up, declaring she was her favorite. As I stared at them, I noticed how similar that they looked. Long, curly blond hair, pale skin, and chocolate brown eyes. Suddenly, "soul transfer" made complete sense. While she continued to eye the details of my dummies, I grabbed the spell book, and opened it to each dog-eared page until I found the "soul transfer" spell. I muttered the words, and as I finished, she turned to me with a look of shock. Her body fell limp, and the dummy, Tina, was examining her hands, feet, and new body. _

_Tina looked at me, whimpering in Sabby's voice. Eventually she began screaming. The dummy walked to me, like a scarecrow(if scarecrows would walk), pounding at my shins with her wooden fists. Enraged, I picked up the dummy, slamming its face to the floor, and shattered it into splintery pieces. No more movement. I didn't know what happened, so I consulted the spell book. It explained that once a soul was contained in a vessel, it mustn't be broken, or the soul would be lost, unless it had a binding spell. So is that what happened. Sabby's soul is lost?_

_But I'm not concerned with that. I, for the first time, quite literally brought a dummy to life. The dummy, walked, talked, and I didn't have to struggle to keep my lips still. I should try again. I need a new victim. A new slave.  
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September 10._

_I've been trying to reserve more shows, in hopes to give this "soul transfer" thing another try. I've finally finished my new dummy, too! I've decided to call him Slappy. I like him a lot. It took some time, but I managed to get the eye controls to work. I don't know when I'll use him on stage. I'll have to wait till I can find a soul worthy enough to control him. On the night of my first successful soul transfer, I took Sabby's lifeless body, and Tina's remaining pieces, and threw them down a sewer. I don't think anyone will be finding them any time soon._

–

_I just got a reservation! I'll be playing in four days. I've been re-reading that spell over and over again in my head, so I'll have it memorized. Hopefully someone will want to see my dummies. If not, I'll have to do it the hard way, I suppose. My dream of being a ventriloquist will finally be a reality. I've decided that Neve will be on stage. I hope she catches the eye of someone.  
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September 14._

_No one came to see me after the show, so I tried the spell on a boy, about fifteen or sixteen, while he was alone. This time, I managed to contain his soul in my water bottle until I got home to put it in one of my dummies. I threw his lifeless body in my trunk, where I would later dispose of it in the sewer. I decided to place his soul in a dummy I called Tomi. Tomi had light brown hair and very deep green eyes. After attaching his soul to Tomi, I asked him his name, and after hesitating a bit, he replied that his name was Wesley. I explained to him what I had done to him, and he was enraged, scared, and probably skeptical. I told him that he would be a part in my act, sort of a slave, with the bargain that I would release him if he did as I asked._

_Of course, I'm not going to keep my word. He'll rat me out, surely, and my dream will be shattered. He agreed. Now, so he wouldn't run away, I found a sleeping spell in the spell book that I placed on him. He's not going anywhere.  
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September 19._

_A few days earlier, I managed to book a show today, so I was ready to take Wesley—or Tomi, rather—to perform. We had practiced the act, and I think he had it memorized well. If not, I could improvise, and so could he. I'm going to use the awakening spell to wake him from his sleep. This spell is definitely one of the strangest in the book. It goes: _Karru Marri Odanna Loma Molonu Karrano. _It's almost show time. Better practice a bit._

–

_I can't believe it. Everyone stayed in their seats. I had a huge applause. Many people wanted to see me again. It was unreal. But, I can't use the same dummy with the same soul. I'll need a new soul and a new vessel. When I was sure everyone had gone, I smashed Tomi against a metal pipe, and Wesley's soul was gone, just like Sabby's. I kept the pieces with me, until I got home. I managed to get a girl's soul into my dummy called Sammy. I had another slave at my disposal.  
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October 9._

_How many souls have been lost because of me? Was it murder? Suddenly, I don't care anymore. I am obsessed with my passion, and I am obsessed with giving orders to my slaves. I've been so obsessed with this that I had barely touched this journal. I've been growing slightly wary, when I read the newspaper today. A few missing people, all of them looked familiar. All of their souls were wandering around, and their bodies were in the sewer. No one suspected a ventriloquist of such a thing. _

_I still haven't found a soul worthy enough to inhabit Slappy. Even if I did, the way to rid the soul is to break the vessel, and I couldn't do that to my best dummy. No. I need to stop here. Another slave to train in my act._

–

_Another show. Another successful show, I might add. This is becoming too easy. My slaves are so easy to manipulate. I've transferred so many souls to my dummies that I've lost count. People keep wanting to see me, so shows must be more frequent. I'm running out of dummies, so I should make more, or go on a hiatus. I'm not using Slappy yet.  
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October 24._

_They've found me out! A police officer, whose daughter attended one of my shows stopped me and asked me if I knew anything. I completely blew it, not coming up with a good enough answer. He asked me more questions, each with answers that were secret. The only answer I gave him was a spell that would blind him for a moment while I managed to escape. I don't know what I'm going to do. _

_After sitting in terror, I came up with my perfect escape: I'll do what I was afraid to do at the start. Bond my soul with a dummy. I now realize why no one was worthy enough to be bound to Slappy. Because I am the only one worthy. But I'd need to make some modifications to him. I carved a few symbols onto him. These symbols I found in the spell book. One was a binding symbol: no matter what, I will be bound to Slappy. Another was a symbol of strength: so I won't be weak. The last one was a symbol of life: to ensure that I will live forever while bound to Slappy. I'm also putting a slip of paper with the awakening spell, _Karru Marri Odanna Loma Molonu Karrano_, on it, inside his coat pocket. Just in case someone manages to put me to sleep. Just because I'm a dummy doesn't mean I'll stop existing. _

_Once in Slappy, I will put my body in the floorboard. I'm ready for anything.  
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I watched lifelessly as a team of police officers barged through the door searching for me. How foolish. They noticed my journal opened wide and they began skimming through the last entry I had made moments before.I could tell that they were trying their hardest to be serious about this. They must have got to the last sentence, because they started lifting the floorboard up.

There they saw me—no, Samuel. Every inch of life that was Samuel is gone now. Swallowed up by the madness that was his passion. I was Samuel no more. I am Slappy. Just Slappy. As they examined Samuel's body, I smacked one of them on the head with my wooden hand, knocking him out(I knew that strength symbol was a good idea). The other officer stared at me wide eyed, not knowing what to do. As I hobbled toward him, he backed away and eventually exited Samuel's home.

Maybe I'll sneak into an antique shop and wait for someone to buy me. I'm getting bored, so I hope someone notices me soon. It's been so long since I've had a slave.

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**So, uh, that's it! I hope you liked it. **


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